


Of Rain and Thunderstorms

by desole (tearyxz)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 14:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5932162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tearyxz/pseuds/desole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yifan hates the rain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Rain and Thunderstorms

 

 

~*~*~

Yifan hates the rain.

He hates how gloomy it makes him feel, and the fact that it affected him at all. It didn’t sit well with him, knowing that something as insignificant as rain could make him feel so uneasy.

He dislikes the annoying sound of the rain tapping incessantly on the windows, the roof, his car, his umbrella, and oh don’t even get him started about umbrellas. He absolutely can’t stand the supposedly “useful” things that never keep him dry anyways (there was always _wind_ , damn Sehun), and then the water would always end up on his carpet.

And who can even predict when the foul drops will decide to screw up his day? Certainly not the dumb meteorologists. But that’s beyond the point, since Yifan is always prepared.

_Zhang Yixing_ , on the other hand, can’t even keep track of his own age and name, much less an umbrella. So guess who has to share with the fool who stomps around in puddles like he’s a third-grader, blissfully unaware he was drenching himself _and_ Yifan, making the umbrella 100% useless anyways?

Another item to add to ever growing list of things Yifan hates about rain. Yifan likes staying _dry_ and _warm_ , thank you very much. He would be perfectly content to sit at home, warm and cozy and safe, all day long if he had his way.

It annoys Yifan how much Yixing enjoys something he himself abhors. How the dripping and tapping is like music to other boy, but Yifan can’t stand the noise, the drumming always giving him a headache and driving him insane, makes him feel jumpy and restless and just gahhhhh, wants to rip his hair out. Crazy, cluttered. Claustrophobic, even though he’s not even claustrophobic.

But stinking Zhang Yixing just drums his fingers on the table, the windowsill, his leg, whatever he can get his hands on, his _stinkin’ dimple_ a permanent fixture, his eyes glazed slightly like he’s either deep in thought or zoned out. Yifan can never tell, but it’s the same thing anyways. Yifan finds himself wondering what he’s thinking of, and how something inanimate and so common can make him so happy. It’s like Yixing’s mind just goes somewhere far, far away, listening to a music that Yifan can’t hear, Yifan can’t understand.

Yifan hates not understanding ~~Yixing~~.

(And no of course he’s not in denial.)

 

~*~*~

Yixing loves the rain.

He loves the smell of the air, the freshness of it all. It’s like the sky is relieving all of its pent up frustrations, washing the earth clean. A fresh start, a second chance. Yixing is a firm believer in second chances, of forgiveness. Of persistence.

He likes how sometimes, you can just feel it in the air, from the heaviness to the humidity, that it’s going to rain. But even more, he loves it when it rains without warning, when the clouds sweep in and everyone looks around in bewilderment as the sky cries. The spontaneous nature of rain reminds Yixing of himself. It makes him chuckle when he imagines it; _“oh, was I supposed to rain today? I think those scientist people down below, whatever they’re called, said I was supposed to….oh well. I don’t feel like it and it’s too late now… but how about next week!”_

He likes imagining it; he likes to think he’s spontaneous like the rain, not just a forgetful and clueless fool.

It’s soothing, too; the sound of rain. It’s a constant, a steady hum in the background when Yixing is working. But it’s also never constant. It’s ever changing, the rhythm rising and falling, drumming out hundreds of variations of the same song. It fascinates Yixing, the accents, the lulls. It inspires him, and sometimes Yixing wishes he could just close his eyes and listen to the rain all day long.

But one of the best things about rain is the puddles. He doesn’t understand why so many people curse the poor things; did they not have a childhood? Yifan was obviously deprived. Sure, he gets wet and soppy, but it’s fun! And since when was fun defined as clean, dry, and warm? So safe and secure, it’s suffocating?

It’s definitely amusing, though, to see Yifan get all grumpy when he gets wet. That alone is worth it. Yixing is willing to bet major sums of (imaginary) money that Yifan was a cat in his past life; though the way he shakes his hair after getting drenched is definitely more like a dog. Thus the imaginary money, but it’s not like Yixing has that much money anyways.

Yixing finds it endearing, how worked up Yifan can get about the weather. It reminds him that no, Yifan _isn’t_ some perfect Greek god that descended from the heavens, what with his perfect hair and chiseled jaw and sculpted face and toned muscles and flawless skin and….what was the point again?

Oh yeah. Yifan getting worked up about the weather. Yixing understands Yifan’s point of view, but it doesn’t mean he can’t make Yifan’s life miserable by pointing out the ridiculousness of his logic. Yifan especially seems to get irked when Yixing decides to abandon the umbrella altogether, take a couple laps out in the rain, and then give him a bear hug, effectively making Yifan look like he’d also decided ditch the umbrella. But all Yixing has to do is pull out the dimple and puppy-dog eyes, and all is well again.

Well, well enough until Yixing decides to complain that he’s cold now and wants his jacket (which Yifan _told_ Yixing to bring but nooooo Yixing said he didn’t need it).

Yixing loves teasing ~~Yifan~~.

 

~*~*~

Yixing hates thunderstorms, though.

A lot of people argue that there’s no real difference, but Yixing begs to differ. There’s a _reason_ why there are thunderstorm warnings and watches, but no such thing for normal, wonderfully normal rain.

And it’s not like Yixing’s scared of thunderstorms (no that was not sarcastic, he’s really not scared!), he just dislikes being cooped up inside. And there’s nothing soothing about the pounding on the roof and windows. It’s distracting and Yixing is already a majorly distracted human being. Unlike the light pattering of rain, the pounding does not serve as nice background music. If Yixing had to compare it to music, the only genre that would fit the bill would be hard core heavy metal rock with screamo attached (the image of Kai with the crazy, but thankfully temporary, tattoos he had on his face that one time pops into his head). Definitely not background music. And Yixing never really liked rock anyways.

And it’s dark. Yifan had the nerve to laugh at him when his said that the first time, but it’s true! Yes, it’s darker outside when it’s raining too, but it is most definitely not the same ominous darkness of storm. It makes Yixing shiver a bit, uncomfortable with the blackness during the day. It makes him nervous and a bit skittish.

And then there’s the thunder. And _no_ Yixing is NOT scared of thunder. It does surprise him though, and as much as Yixing likes surprises, thunder is the one exception. It’s just so loud and sudden, he can’t help it if he jumps or falls out of his chair! It’s just an involuntary reaction!

But of course, Yifan fails to understand his very logical reasoning and must point out his supposed fright at every available opportunity, snarky remarks and knowing gaze unrelenting until Yixing is a flustered mess, cheeks burning as he insists that _no he does NOT need Yifan to close the curtains or protect him from the oh-so-scary thunder_.

Yixing hates Yifan. ~~Really.~~

 

~*~*~

Yifan loves thunderstorms.

He loves the rumbling thunder (it reminds him of his own deep voice) and the flashes of lightning (he’s always had a flair for the dramatic) and the overall impressiveness of storms. They are majestic and powerful, and Yifan likes to think he’s a thunderstorm personified. He’s not being narcissistic; it’s just a fact of life.

Yifan especially enjoys sitting outside to watch the storms, front row seat right up close and personal. He’s under a porch or the overhanging of a roof, of course, because getting wet is most definitely not synonymous with being outside. The gusts of wind excite him and he relishes in the tension building in the air before the storm’s fury is unleashed, merciless and unstoppable until it has run its course.

Yifan finds inspiration from the magnificent displays, drawing upon such memories when he’s on stage and the music is resonating through him the same way the thunder resonates in his bones. And when he’s singing, he all he has to do is close his eyes and he can feel the passion and endless energy stirring in his soul.

There are also those rare moments where the storms render Yifan completely speechless, where a small sliver of terror takes hold and Yifan almost bolts inside to safety but is so enraptured he is rooted to the spot, frozen until the dangerous moment passes. It reminds him of the lucky misses in the past and the imminent danger of the future, and motivates him to stand his ground and continue pushing ahead. The storms keep him grounded.

The storms also make him laugh; when an errant sign blows across the landscape or when people are scrambling pathetically to cover or when panicked screams can be heard through the walls when a particularly large rumble takes out the electricity.

Speaking of things that make him laugh, nothing is more hilarious than Zhang Yixing, the one who claims to love rain so much, curled up in a ball on the couch with only his eyes peeking out from under his blanket. His ears are deliberately plugged with earbuds blasting music that Yifan can hear from across the room, and still he can’t help jumping when the beats in his ears can’t drown out the booms outside.

Yifan finds it particularly amusing when the power does go out, because he can always count on a screech of surprise before hands are clamped over that beautiful mouth, eyes glaring at Yifan, daring him to say something. Well, to be completely honest Yifan can’t be completely sure Yixing is glaring at him since his eyes haven’t adjusted to the darkness yet, but he can practically feel the heat of his gaze.

So, of course, Yifan has to jab at Yixing’s wounded pride, questioning his manliness before finally taking pity on the whining boy and fetching candles and flashlights, illuminating the room to the point where it almost seems like the lights were on to begin with. This earns him a shy thank you and embarrassed cheeks dusted with pink as Yifan joins Yixing on the couch, a casual yet protective arms slung around the latter’s shoulders.

Yifan loves ~~comforting~~ Yixing.

  
  
  


 

 


End file.
